His arrival had caused quite a commotion. Unfortunately, it was a commotion in a language he could not understand. They mumbled to each other and stared at him. Two of them left the room. One came back without the other, but with someone else in his place. It was all very confusing for him.

<Why won't the translator work?> he finally said after several moments of silence since his last, failed, attempt to communicate. His hand reached into his bag and pulled out a tiny, palm-sized device. This seemed to upset the larger, darker man of the group who pointed something that he could only guess was a weapon at him. <This isn't going well,> he said to the device.

An image appeared on a screen in front of him. The face was chubby and the head was wide. It was almost as if someone had put it in a vice and squashed it down some. <{In accordance with the waiver you signed with Exquisite First Class Paradise Galactic Travel Agency, we are not responsible for any misunderstandings that you may incur on primitive native soils.}>

<I didn't sign a waiver.>

<{What?...... Oh...... um.... Well, in that case...... If you authorize this agreement with your thumb print, I will be allowed to negotiate a settlement with the primitive culture so that we may continue on with your tour.}>

<This looks like a waiver.>

<{Oh, no! I assure you that it is a simple..... um...... contract.... to.... uh..... allow me to...... ah....... act as a mediator between you and the civilization of Tarkiris.}>

<For an AI, you're a horrible liar. Besides, the translators aren't working. How are you going to negotiate without speaking their language?>

The AI image remained silent for a few moments. <{I am quite good a charades. And the translators are obviously not offline. They are merely caught in conundrum of data. Apparently, Tarkirishian is a very complicated dialect.}>

<Are you sure we are on Tarkiris? I've seen many scans of the landscape and peoples. This looks nothing like what I saw.>

<{That is insulting! I am a Class Mortak Dedicated Data-Retrieval Intelligence. I am seasoned in my profession and have won several Employee of the Year awards for my excellence. You do not make trip after trip to a system without being able to identify the local population.}>

<And how many trips have you made to Tarkiris?>

<{Including this one?}>

<Yes.>

<{One.}>

"..... could be calling in for reinforcements now!" He turned as he realized that he could finally understand the words of the man with the weapon.

"It's about time," he finally said in a language the rest could understand. "I've had enough of this show. If you could please take me to the next teleportation point, I'll be glad to just leave here and never return. It's obvious that this isn't Tarkiris; and, therefore, not a stop on my tour."

The Vanguardians stood trying to take in what was being said. "He made more sense when we couldn't understand a word he was saying," Ringo blurted out.

"You can complain to the travel agency since it was their equipment that caused this whole misunderstanding. Now, if you please, I would like to finish up this tour so that I may go home and berate my cheap brother-in-law."

“I don’t know where you think you are, Mr. Different...,” Chance began to say.

“Well,” the stranger muttered to himself, “obviously not Tarkiris. And what did you just call me?”

“Different,” the Swede replied. “Adam Different. Isn’t that what you said your name was?”

“I’ll tell you what, if you get me to the teleporter, you can call me whatever you like.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Mr. Different. We don’t have a teleporter.”

“No teleporter?” Adam Different asked quizzically. Chance shook his head. “Then take me to a star cruiser, then.” Chance still shook his head. “A sub-orbital shuttle?............ A winged-giklet?....... A wingless-giklet?....... A clean pair of shoes?”

{May I now refer you to page two, paragraph three of the waiver?} the device called out.

“Stay out of this. And I didn’t sign a waiver.” He looked back at Chance. “Where am I?”

“You’re in our headquarters,” Priest answered in an unfriendly tone.

“No. What planet are we on?”

“Um... Why... Earth, of course!” Brianna said.

Adam looked back at the device in his palm. “Earth. Where is Earth?”

{Checking...... checking........ um.... Still checking........ Check, check, check-a-roo.....}

“Where is it?!” Adam demanded

{Well,... there seems to be a slight catch....}

“Where?!”

{I..... I don’t know.}